


Rent-a-boy

by froggy (therealfroggy)



Category: Die Hard (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, Rentboys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:24:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/froggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt has trouble finding a job after the Fire Sale and so turns to prostitution. John finds out and desperately wants to save him. Written in response to a kink meme at LiveJournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rent-a-boy

Matt put his cigarette to his lips once more, inhaling lightly. He didn't much care for the smoking itself, but the customers expected it and he found he pulled more – and better – clients when he smoked.

“You looking for a Daddy?” came a gruff voice from the alley just behind him.

“Maybe. Depends on how much allowance he'll give me,” Matt said, trying to sound nonchalant. He turned around and sized the man up and down. Big, hairy, with tattooed forearms. Matt reckoned he had a bike standing somewhere nearby.

He'd only been in the game for five months and six days, but he knew the type. Suppressed homosexual, needed to feel big and strong, displayed his power whenever possible.

To Matt, that meant an extra ten bucks per bruise. And he didn't mind it rough.

“I'm sure we can figure something out,” Matt said, smiling invitingly at the man.

***

Across the street, John McClane slammed his fist into the wall, bruising and chafing his knuckles without feeling it.

Damn it! How could he not have seen? He was a cop, God damn it! He should have noticed the signs!

Matt had, right after their saving the country, been worried about work and money. John had offered to share his flat while Matt found something of his own, but after a week, the boy moved out without telling John where he was going to live.

John assumed he'd found himself a new place.

John half-heartedly tried keeping in touch, calling the boy up a couple of times and suggesting they go out for a beer. In the beginning Matt had accepted, but they never talked about... well, anything, really. They had a few beers, talked about everything and nothing, then left.

Matt had been withdrawn, hesitant to talk about his personal life. John almost began suspecting him of dating Lucy.

And now, John hadn't heard from the kid in about two months, and when he coincidentally saw him across the street and was about to give him a shout and a wave...

The kid had gone into the alley with that big biker guy.

John hurried across the street, invoking quite a bit of angry honking. Carefully picking his gun from its holster, he began stealing into the alley.

It was damp, dark, and smelled of garbage. At the end, a fading neon sign above a door announced that there were rooms for hire behind that grey door.

The biker guy, apparently, hadn't decided to bother with privacy. Before John had made it halfway into the alley, he was met with the sight of Matt on his knees, working efficiently to get biker guy's jeans open. A difficult job, seeing as his stomach about covered the belt entirely.

“Hey!” John shouted, reaching for his badge. “Police! Put your hands on your head and face the wall!”

The biker looked up, grimaced, and started for John. “Shut the fuck up, pig!”

John aimed his gun at the fucker's head and glared at him. “Do as I said, motherfucker, or I'll add ´officer assault` to ´solicitation` and ´statutory rape`.”

The biker guy admitted defeat, placed his hands on the nape of his neck and turned to face the wall. “Hey, he's not a minor!” A slight pause, then, “Right, kid?”

Matt was staring at John. He hadn't moved, nor said a word since John had come barging in on him.

“Whatever, scum bag. Kid, you stay right here. Don't move. I'll be back in five.”

John cuffed the biker and hauled him out of the alley, calling for a car over his radio as he went. He didn't mention the boy.

Six minutes and thirty-two seconds later – John was counting agitatedly – a black-and-white pulled up on the kerb and two officers took over. They nodded to John in recognition, and as soon as they had a hold of the biker, John turned and jogged back into the alley.

“Matt?”

Matt was leaning against the wall, his lips clamped around a cigarette, and his face was pale, even in the poor light. “McClane.”

“What the hell were you thinking, Matt?” John yelled, slamming his hand against the wall. “Prostitution! You're selling yourself to pay the rent, kid! Why?”

Matt's shocked face changed into an ugly scowl. “You tell me. Why do girls do it? At least it pays the rent.”

John closed his eyes briefly, fighting the urge to just slap the kid around for a bit. “Matt, you're... what, twenty?”

“Twenty-two,” the younger man mumbled, looking away.

“Twenty-two!” John roared, striding over to bunch the front of Matt's tank top in his fists. “You're so God damn young, kid! And you're so smart; you could have been a programmer or whatever the hell you wanted!”

Matt glared at him then, never resisting John's handling of his clothing but all defiance. “Well, I can't! I can't get a job, and I can't just live around your place forever! It's... it's not that bad, okay?” he said, and John could hear how much the lie hurt.

“Kid, you're a fucking rent boy,” John said, letting go of the kid. “Come on. We need coffee. We're going to talk about this. And you need to eat; you're a fucking twig.”

***

Seated in one of the more secluded booths at the nearest all-night diner, the two men finally looked each other in the eyes. John sighed, running a hand over his shorn head. Where to even start? Ah. Right there would be a good idea.

“When did you start working the streets?” he asked, looking with pity and anger at the younger man. “And why?”

Matt shrugged. “Just after I left your place. A week, maybe. I'd been applying for all these jobs, you know, and they all turned me down. I have no credibility, McClane; no credibility at all! I helped start a Fire Sale, fuck it! The only place they'd hire me – the _only_ place – was at the local doughnut shop. I can't sell doughnuts for the rest of my life, even you should understand that.”

John stared at the other man. “You'd rather sell your ass than sell doughnuts,” he said, incredulous.

Matt shrugged again; that agonizingly innocent gesture made John wish he'd never had to think about Matt and prostitution in the same sentence, the same conversation, hell, the same life.

“It pays better. And it's...” He trailed off, looking down at his coffee. John had ordered pancakes for them both; Matt was skinny as a fourteen year-old with anorexia, and John needed something to do with his hands.

“How could you even think about it?” he insisted. The waitress arrived with their pancakes, and Matt waited until she'd gone to explain.

“I wasn't... I didn't know I was doing it until I was doing it. There was this guy, right; he was hot and he... asked me if I wanted to come back to his place. I did. He was great and all that; I told him that I was a virgin and he was careful. But when I woke up the next morning, he'd gone to work, and he didn't leave me his number or anything, just a hundred dollars next to my shirt.”

Matt reached for his pack of smokes, but hesitated. “You want one?”

John accepted, and they sat in silence for a few seconds, inhaling. John felt wired up. Matt didn't display a single shred of emotion.

“Anyway, I went back to my place and I thought about it. And when I stood outside that club again, you know, just to see if... Well, there was another guy. We settled on the price in advance.”

John pushed his pancakes away. He couldn't eat. Matt was smoking, Matt was gay, Matt was a rent boy.

And Matt talked about sex as if he was explaining basic mathematics to a friend.

“Matty, listen to me,” John said, leaning forward to catch the younger man's attention. “I know you're not a baby. You're twenty-two; you can make your own choices. But not this one. You can't... You've been lucky so far! There's STD's, psychos, pimps, drugs – have you thought about that, kid? You could get yourself into serious trouble!”

Matt blushed. “I use condoms. I don't take anything they offer me. And I don't need a pimp.”

John covered his face in his hands and took a deep breath before continuing. “I don't want to see you like this, Matt. I'm not going to report you or bring you down to the station or anything. But come back to my apartment, okay? Just... get a quiet night and some rest, some food.”

Matt bit his lip. “Your place?”

John nodded. “Yeah, my place. It doesn't have to be like this. I can help you! The feds still owe us big time; they could use a guy like you on their team, we can -”

Matt turned away. “McClane, don't. I know they're not going to give me that job. Just... Fine, I'll come back to your place and I'll sleep on your damn couch, but don't try and keep me off the streets. You already cost me a trick tonight. That's rent and food, you know.” This, accompanied with a sheepish grin.

John couldn't stop his gut from churning with regret for Matt's sake as they drove back to the older man's appartment.

***

Matt looked uncomfortable where he sat on John's worn couch. The older man felt increasingly desperate for a way out.

He sat down next to Matt. “You're not doing this just because you're not getting any, are you?”

Matt looked offended for half a second before he laughed. “Get a grip, McClane. I thought I was being picked up by that guy the first night. It was just a lucky shot that he decided to pay me; he was hot.”

John felt he was stepping on thin ice now, but he had to try. “You could stop it, Matt. I don't care how long you have to sleep on my couch; we'll find you something! We'll get you a job, or whatever the hell you want. Heck, I'd let you live here on a permanent basis – free – rather than see you out there again.”

Matt actually blushed, then; looking almost too young and too innocent for John to believe he'd been trying to suck a guy off for money mere hours earlier. “Live here?”

John handed Matt a beer and opened his own. “Hell yes; not only are you breaking the law – I should have busted your ass for that – but I worry about you, kid. I didn't save your hide from Thomas Gabriel so you could go and sell it!”

Matt laughed again at that, and John was struck by how cute the younger man was when he did that. He looked boyish and relaxed, and a bit self-conscious. And suddenly John came to mind of some of the “experimenting” he'd done in his youth, and he wondered if he had the key to saving Matt right there.

“Just let it go, McClane; I'm going to work double tomorrow no matter what you say, so just drink your beer and find me a blanket.”

McClane did drink his beer; half of it down in one gulp and the rest in two more. He figured he might as well go with his plan, but he'd need at least one beer in his system before attempting anything that risky and stupid.

“Fine. Another one?” John rose to get himself another beer, bringing one back for Matt as well.

“I haven't even finished mine,” Matt said, glancing at the older man. “I haven't been drinking for ages. Can't, you know; I'd be pretty dumb to drink before turning a trick.”

John McClane wished he'd never heard that from Matt Farrell, but still he grunted non-committally and swallowed down more beer.

Matt drank his beer in silence, waiting for the older man to speak. He expected a whole lot more bullshit, but the truth of the matter was, his place was dingy and cold and only had two tiny rooms, and he had to curl up beneath three blankets every night just to not freeze his ass off. The upstairs neighbours' shower leaked down through his roof, and he had to fob off three lewd attempts at having sex with him before he even got in the door.

It would be so nice to just sleep on John's couch for a night; feel warm and safe and comfortable. Maybe he wouldn't have to find more than one client tomorrow, either; he could go to the high-end places and he could probably find someone with enough money for him to make the next rent.

But he did expect a whole lot of bullshit, ranging from _What the hell are you doing_ to _You know you can talk to me if anything's bothering you, kid_.

What he didn't expect, was for John to grasp his chin, turn his head and kiss him. Tenderly.

Matt gave a muffled sound of surprise. John McClane was kissing him. Kissing him with gentleness and a comforting sort of sincerity. Not like him at all.

“McClane,” Matt gasped, breaking the kiss. “What are you doing?”

“Maybe I want you for myself,” John said quietly, dipping his head again. “Maybe I don't want everyone else to have what I want.”

Matt evaded the older man's lips, looking accusingly up at him. “I don't kiss. Too personal and all that. If you want a blow or a fuck, the rate's a hundred bucks a pop.”

John shot out of the couch, turning from Matt in rage. “Fuck, Matt! You think I'm trying to get into your shorts for money? God damn it, kid, I thought more highly of you than that!”

Matt gulped. He could see the older man's muscle shaking; he was probably pissed off. Matt tried to sink deeper into the cushions. “I didn't know you were gay.”

John turned a fierce glare on the younger man. “Shut the fuck up. I was married for several years, you little brat; I haven't kissed a guy since high school. And you're asking me to _pay_ you for sex?”

Matt shook his head quickly, staring wide-eyed at John. “No, seriously, McClane, it wasn't like that. I was just saying, you know, it's not like... I don't work for free. If you want what everyone else does, you'll have to pay, same as them.”

John actually picked up the full beer can Matt had yet to open and hurled it across the room. It smashed into the plastered brick wall and exploded, spraying beer over a lot of things that would stain in the morning.

“I was not trying to make you turn a trick!” John shouted, yelling at the top of his lungs. “I was kissing you, Matt, because I felt like it! Do I look like a damn buyer to you?”

Matt was silent for a few heartbeats. “Do I look like a free ride?”

John reared back in defence. “That was not what I meant! Jesus, kid, can't you even believe that maybe I kissed you because I wanted to and for no God damn other reason?”

Matt flushed brick red, then turned away, his shoulders tight. “Don't. McClane, please, don't go there.”

But John McClane was a stubborn son of a bitch, and he was most definitely going there. At high speed. He lunged for the younger man, forcing him to turn back until John was leaning down over him, hissing the words right into his face.

“Oh, I will go there, Matty, and you'll damn well listen. I care about you; after all we've been through, do you think I want to see you do an overdose in a seedy club with a heroin shot up your arm? Do you think I want to see you working the streets every night I'm on patrol, down to only doing blowjobs because you know you've got AIDS or some shit?”

McClane was roaring now and Matt was terrified. “McClane, I -”

“I don't care what you say, that's how they all end up and I've seen it a hundred times. I'm not letting you do that, Matty. If I have to turn you in, I won't let you do that.”

Matt was trembling. The older man was terrifying, not only in his rage, but in his concern, burning just beneath the surface. He was terrified, and Matt could feel it. McClane was acting like a wounded animal.

Breathing heavily, the officer sank down at the couch, his head in his hands. Matt chewed on his lip. He didn't speak until McClane did.

“I will fucking pay for everything, Matt; I will give you money for computer gear and food and whatever you need, but I won't let you sell yourself. You're not a rent boy. You're smart, and you're a good kid, and you won't pull another trick in your life. I forbid it.”

“But you kissed me,” Matt finally said, looking at the older man. “Was it just to prove your point? About doing anything?”

McClane laughed humourlessly. “Shit, kid, if it's about the sex, you've got some serious issues. You're only twenty-two. It's not like you'll never get laid without turning tricks. Yes, I'll do whatever it takes – but I just kissed you because I wanted to. And I figured you hadn't done much of it lately.”

Matt shrugged. “I don't care about the sex. Sex isn't necessarily a big deal. It was great that first night; afterwards, it's just been... sex. Money.”

McClane finally raised his head. “I kissed you. No money involved. Now I want you to sleep on my couch for a few nights, stop prostituting yourself, and we'll figure this out. Can you do that?”

Matt nodded curtly, still feeling like someone had beat him up. He hadn't expected the argument to get that... intense. “But hey, John?”

The older man's head whipped around at the mention of his name. “Yeah?”

“Can I sleep in your bed instead?”

McClane opened his mouth, probably to protest, but Matt overrode him. “No, seriously. I want to. I don't care, whatever you're going to say, I just want to sleep in your bed. We can have sex, if you want to. Please?”

McClane stared at him for a few moments, then finally shrugged. “Fine, kid. Come sleep in my fucking bed.”

***

John told himself he had to stop. Had to stop his mind right then and there.

He didn't mind the fact that he'd felt more than a few butterflies when he'd kissed Matt; he'd not kissed anyone but Holly for so long and suddenly there was a younger man, one that John just knew he felt something for. Desire. Hunger.

Yes, that was it; he felt an intense hunger for the younger man. But the more he looked at him, the more he saw a rent boy and not the kid he'd saved back when the world was still normal and they were fighting terrorists.

He didn't see boyish innocence, he saw a hopeless future and sophisticated tricks to attract the best clients. Gone was the fear of the world in general; resignation had taken its place. And the nervous way Matt had acted around him from day one? No trace of it left.

Matt was a rent boy. And John was still very much attracted to him; perhaps even more so since finding out.

Why? He couldn't tell. But the way Matt efficiently undressed, fingers working on instinct to shed himself of his clothing, sent ripples of renewed interest through John. And the hunger was increased manifold.

“Coming?” Matt said matter-of-factly, standing there in just his boxer shorts and throwing aside the covers. He climbed in.

John was still fully dressed, gun still holstered at his side. Carefully, he removed his weapon, then began pulling his long-sleeved tee shirt over his head. He opened his belt, pushed his trousers down, not once looking at the boy - _No, the too young man_ \- lying in his bed.

He didn't notice that Matt never once looked at him, either, until he was standing before the bed, as naked as Matt – a mere scrap of cotton his last defence.

“Just for the record, I'm using my rent boy tactics on you right now,” Matt stated, then turned around to face John (he'd been lying on his side facing the wall). “Turn away so they let their guard down. Most guys don't like it when I stare.”

John felt his cock twitch in Matt's cynical words, spoken with the same voice that had – not six months earlier – berated John for calling his ´action figures` dolls. He cursed himself for that reaction; he was _not_ supposed to be getting hard over the fact that Matt was a rent boy.

“Don't say things like that, Matty,” John said, feeling infinitely desperate – not only for his own sake, but for Matt's, too. The boy needed to be saved from the life he was heading towards. John needed to stop himself taking advantage of the situation.

“Just being honest,” the kid said, shrugging.

John tried desperately to think of him as ´kid` rather than ´Matt the male prostitute`, but it didn't work – didn't lessen the sudden hunger that he couldn't recognize from any time earlier in his life.

“And get in the bed; I'm tired.”

John drew a deep breath and climbed into the bed, pulling the covers up to his waist. “Sleep now, Matty.”

But the younger man didn't go to sleep; he rolled over until he was pressed against John's side. “Nah, I think I'll get myself warmed up a bit first.”

“You said you were tired,” John said accusingly. “You're going to get some rest, and we'll talk again in the morning. For now, you can... you can sleep in here as long as you don't – do that, for a start!”

Matt had placed his head on John's chest, nuzzling the older man's skin, and was sliding his leg up until he was resting his own thigh across John's. Trying to fold around him.

“But I want to,” Matt said, snuggling closer. “You kissed me because you wanted to. Now I'm cuddling because I want to.”

John was even more turned on by the fact that Matt just offered trust and closeness that willingly, considering where that lithe body had been over the past few months.

“Ooh, someone's got a taste for cuddling,” Matt said, his thigh encountering John's stirring hard-on. The youth ignored John's obvious embarrassment, pressing closer yet. “I don't mind. I like that.”

John threw his hands up to cover his face in shame. He had a prostitute in his bed. It didn't matter that he was trying to save the kid; a rent boy was clinging to him beneath the covers and John was getting hard over it.

“Come on, I know you want it,” Matt said, smirking up at the older man. “You're rock hard down here. I'm not judging you; I like it. McClane...”

“Matt,” John groaned, trying to turn away. That caused his cock to press against Matt's thigh and he changed his mind. “Don't say things like that! Yeah, maybe I do want you – but I don't want a rent boy, Matt; I want _you_.”

Matt sighed and moved an inch or two away. “Fine. I'll leave you alone.”

There was silence for a while, then John raised himself on one elbow, looking down at Matt in the near-darkness. “Will you let me kiss you?”

Matt's eyebrows raised. “Hell, McClane, I've never once kissed a client. That's not how it works.”

“I know, Matty,” John said, letting his voice drop. His mind was working fast. Back to plan A, then, if threatening the kid didn't work. “I'm not a client. I'm just asking if you'll let me kiss you. Just once. I won't get pushy.”

Matt shrugged. “I don't... Okay, I wouldn't, normally, but since you kind of saved my life a couple times...”

John dipped his head low, hovering before letting his lips touch lightly on Matt's. _Think first kiss in high school, John; give the boy his money's worth..._

Matt's lips were so soft. He tasted of cigarettes and beer, and John knew they shared that taste. He covered the smaller mouth entirely, parting his lips and letting his tongue slip out. Just a few, gentle touches of wet against Matt's dry lips before he withdrew, looking into Matt's eyes.

“More?” he enquired softly, letting one hand alight on Matt's thigh, the cover separating them. “Can I... do that again?”

“You said you wouldn't get pushy,” Matt said, but his voice was breathy and his hand was almost shaking where it was clutching the pillow.

“I know, I won't unless you tell me I can,” John assured him, rubbing his thigh in gentle circles. “You're not on the job tonight, Matty; you get to decide.”

Matt nodded, avoiding John's eyes. “Fine. Okay. You can... do it again.”

John smiled in the darkness, knowing he'd just reached through. “Okay.” His own voice was hoarse, he noticed; he licked his lips before leaning in a little further. He touched his lips to Matt's again, and this time the younger man's mouth opened to meet his.

Their tongues slowly met, John adjusting himself to a better access point. He thrust his tongue deep into Matt's mouth; not a rough gesture, merely insistent and suggestive. Matt gave a small sigh and kissed back, his hands still clutching the pillow.

“Can I touch you?” John rumbled, his hand heavy on Matt's thigh. The youth gave a small sound of disagreement, but didn't say anything as John's hand advanced slowly up his thigh until it was resting on his hip.

John kissed the boy again; kissed him deeply this time and slid the tips of his fingers underneath the waistband of Matt's boxer shorts. Matt didn't make a sound.

“I won't if you don't want me to,” John insisted, trying to make the kid react in some way. “I want to touch you, Matty, but I won't do anything you don't let me.”

Matt bit his lip, looking away. “Go ahead.”

The rent boy told him to have at it and one part of John was about to throw Matt over on his stomach and fuck him through the bed, but something told him that might not be the way of getting rid of the rent boy and getting the nerdy kid back.

“Okay,” he breathed, his lips hovering right by Matt's ear. Then he slid his hand down the younger man's shorts, slowly closing a hand around him. Matt was half-hard, clearly torn between arousal and... business? Was this still business to him?

“Matty, look at me,” John requested, beginning to stroke carefully. “C'mon, Matty, I don't want you to think about this as work.” Matt looked up, and John held his gaze, stroking slowly. Matt gulped.

“I care about you, kid,” John said, smiling down at Matt. “I'm not doing this because of anything. I like you and I want to touch you. Simple as that.”

Matt nodded, but didn't look convinced. He didn't let himself enjoy John's touches.

John tried again and kissed him; pressed their lips together hard and groaned into the younger man's mouth to voice his appreciation. “Matty...” he hissed against Matt's lips, “Kid, you're so good, you feel so good. Let me touch you. I want to... just touch you.”

Matt nodded, more enthusiastically this time. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. You can... do that.”

John sighed in relief and stroked faster. Things were going in the right direction. He placed wet little kisses along Matt's throat as he stroked, Matt's erection feeling hot and smooth in his hand.

The kid moaned. “McClane,” he breathed, “are you... going to...”

“I'd like to make you come, kid,” John said, knowing he didn't sound as confident as he should. Truth be told, he'd never been with a prostitute before. He assumed they knew more about sex than him. “I want to just keep jacking you off until you come. Can I do that? Will you let me do that for you, Matty?”

Matt's forehead creased in a grimace of pleasure. “Yeah,” he whispered, “McClane, fuck yeah.”

“I think you're hot,” John said, more assertively this time. “You're hot, kid, and I want to touch you and kiss you and make you come on my bed. You gonna let me?”

“John,” Matt groaned, “just do it. I don't... You don't have to ask. Just do it.”

John kissed him again; kissed him with more passion than tenderness and upped his pace on the youth's erection until Matt was whimpering.

John hadn't ever heard that sound from him before, not even when he was in pain, and it sent another rush of hunger through the older man.

“Matty... Matty...”

John didn't realize he was moaning into the kid's ear until he heard his own voice huskily repeating the syllables of Matt's name. He was so hard it was difficult to focus on the kid, but he kept stroking, kept petting his little rent boy and kissing his neck until Matt gave a gasp of surprised pleasure and he could feel the sticky mess spill in his hand.

He didn't release the youth, only stilled his hand and tried to keep his breath even and controlled. He was huffing into Matt's neck.

“Matty,” John growled, finally releasing him and wiping his hand on the sheets. “Matty.”

Matt was heaving for breath, beautifully spread out on the bed, one hand still clutching the pillow as he shut his eyes tight and his mouth silently formed John's name.

Neither of them spoke while Matt's breathing slowed, not until the younger man opened his eyes wide in wondering confusion and gaped at John.

“You're... still... You didn't even touch yourself,” he finished, slowly sitting up. He seemed tired.

“I wanted to touch you,” John said, but felt the unwavering gaze slide down to his crotch, still under the covers, but not in the least bit a mystery.

The rent boy was back in a flash of brown eyes, smiling like the devil incarnate. “Wanted to... or felt obliged to?”

John tried glaring, but he was too aware of his own hardness. “I wanted to, kid. Don't you even fucking suggest anything else! I fucking did that because I wanted you, uh, wanted to.”

He realized his slip-up when Matt cocked his head to one side, looking at him with those irresistible brown eyes.

“But you can have me, John. I'm not that uptight, you know.” Accompanied by laughter.

John turned his head away. “I want you for real, Matt; not because you're an easy lay. If I wanted that, I'd just have fucked you when you gave me the green light.”

John didn't see Matt move, but he felt a hand sliding up his own thigh, as his hand had slid over Matt's earlier.

“Maybe I want you, too,” Matt said, hand finding John through the covers and rubbing him slowly. “Why should you have all the fun?”

John slowly turned to lock eyes with the younger man. “If we do this... If I let you go on, then I want you to promise me, on your life, no more tricks. You're not turning another one, not now, not ever. If it's money, come to me. If it's sex, it's consensual and not a bargain.”

Matt smirked at him, feeling the older man's hardness strain in response to his hand. “That's a deal – if I can come to you for sex, too, not just money.”

John did a double take. “You serious, kid?”

Matt shrugged. “You're like, the most attractive man I've seen in five months or something. And you like me. And you've got a good hand.” Another boyish grin, and there it was – the nerdy language was back. “I can't see any reasons _not_ to have sex with you.”

John swallowed heavily. “Whatever you want, Matt; I'll do whatever the fuck you want if it'll keep you off the streets.”

Matt smiled then; a flash of white teeth and dancing brown eyes and John finally saw the computer geek kid he'd saved, underneath the rent boy. He sighed in relief, then laid back down, breathing evenly to control himself.

“But I won't have you talking like a whore when you're in my company,” John said, looking sharply at Matt. “Watch your mouth. And no ´rent boy tricks`, no drugs, and you're using protection.”

“From you?” Matt purred, leaning down to nuzzle at John's chest again. “I thought you were clean.”

John groaned and tried moving Matt's head off himself. “I meant, when you're with someone else. If you're with... anyone.”

Matt persisted in nuzzling. “But if I can come to you for sex, and for money if I need it... Doesn't that make me _your_ whore?”

John sighed contentedly when Matt began nipping along his treasure trail. “Strangely enough, that doesn't bother me – as long as you're _only_ my whore, kid. I don't share.”

Matt began pulling at the waistline of his boxer shorts. “Sounds just fine with me. But it's going to cost you if you want something else than regular sex, like bondage and stuff.”

“How about watching the game with me on Sunday nights?”

Matt looked up at him through his fringe, grinning. “I'll do _that_ for double.”


End file.
